


Try Something New

by Charolastra



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alana Beck Is Perfect, Blonde Connor Murphy, Established Relationship, F/M, Good Boyfriend Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 14:24:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charolastra/pseuds/Charolastra
Summary: Alana has been pestering Connor to try new things, make more memories, and grow his experiences. Connor isn't sure he can--but he finds a compromise, he thinks, that they can both live with.





	Try Something New

Connor had been listening to Alana for all their months of dating. She consoled him frequently, offered her advice. Spoke sweetly when he needed it and allowed him to give back the many good things she had done for him.

She never let him stay bored if he complained. It was always the movies or the park, the lake or the range, the city or a party. Yet she always suggested he do something for him. Not for the sake of distraction.

Connor felt that he had the same desire to do something for the sake of himself.

Rather than further besmirch himself with more self-destructive acts, as he would've done months before, Connor listened. And he did change himself; Monday night, he beseeched Zoe to take a detour on the way home; An hour later, he returned a different boy.

Tuesday morning, he donned a dark shirt, his blue jacket, jeans, and simple tennis shoes. He swept a brush through his interminable hair. He went to school.

People started. A few whispered as he dug books from his locker, stuffed them into his bag. It seemed like eyes followed him where ever he trod; No one could gawk too quietly nor look away too fast. People said hello to him, despite his tired face and listless expressions. A few people said they liked what he'd done.

Inwardly, he liked it, too.

He waved back at people, thanked them for the comments in his low tenor. Smiles took to his lips more often than they had in a while. It was by no means a thrill, but a comfort. He was no longer invisible.

But Alana was missing just as she had been yesterday--Connor stared at her empty desk in English, sorely longing for her sarcastic texts on the their mundane lessons--and couldn't see it. Out sick, she had said this morning when he called.

As school ended, he took the slow walk to Alana's home.

☆

Alana's mother greeted Connor at the entrance. She opened their ornate door eagerly, smiling at the boy she was rather fond of and familiar with by now; yet she stopped before she could finish her hello's. Mrs. Beck stammered, instead, her hand flying to her blouse.

Before her was not the boy her daughter was so infatuated with, but someone seemingly worlds away. He dressed the same as Connor--had the same swaths of purple beneath his sleepy eyes--but his hair was a bright cornsilk blond, the abandoned brown showing at his roots. The curly ends barely graced his shoulders, framed his face--a plane of sharp cheekbones, rosy lips, and a pale few freckles.

"Evening, Eleanor," Connor monotoned, largely unfazed. He shifted his weight to one foot. "Alana's home, right?"

Eleanor blinked incredulously. "Well, yes, she's upstairs, but--"

"Thank you!"

Connor squeezed past her, leaving the older woman baffled at his uncharacteristic change.

At the end of a waxed oak staircase that Connor ascended in twos, Alana's door was wide open. Little cat stickers, pencil marks littered her door frame from the bottom up.

Inside, Alana sat nestled into her giant pink beanbag chair, a book in her lap and a box of tissues beside her. Encompassing her comfortable spot was a minefield of used tissues. Connor grimaced as he came upon the doorway, knocking on the frame.

Alana half looked up, her eyes hooded, _All The Light We Cannot See_ held open in her hands. Her digits curled against the laminated cover for a split second, tensed, surprised.

Then her face was alight, a wide smile overtaking her features; pleasant surprise evident. She even smiled with her teeth--gleaming white, but slightly askew in a way she despaired over--and Connor felt a wave of relief soothe his runaway pulse. Alana stifled a giggle.

"Well, well, well!" The chestnut-skinned girl hummed nasally. Connor plopped onto the chair beside her, a susurrus sounding while the insides settled. "The dark night becomes a sunny day, after all."

Connor feigned a scowl, hazelnut eyes sparking with mischief, then flicked her book shut with a _thump_. Alana made a face back, but didn't reach for her book as it slid slowly off her lap onto the floor.

"Quit with your poetry," scoffed the boy. "Your voice is gross when you're sick." He stretched and let his arm find its place around Alana's shoulders. Wordlessly, the two shifted closer to each other; Alana's frame fitting with Connor's easily, hips touching, their hearts falling into each other's steady pace. Alana inhaled cautiously, Connor's pine cologne over-running her senses. Her head spun for a moment; Meanwhile, Connor felt his body descend from alertness to safety when huddled against Alana. He planted a kiss atop her bowed head.

"That wasn't really what I meant when I said you should try something new," Alana cooed up at him. She reached for a wayward lock of silken gold, twirled it around her finger. The newly-blond shrugged, then leaned in, touching his nose to her forehead and closing his eyes. He took a breath, exhaled. Alana's eyes slid shut. "But I like it."

Her hand fell from his shoulders to his chest, where it held fast to his shirt, squeezing him close.

"If you get me sick, I'm breaking up with you."

_ "Hush it, blondie.” _


End file.
